


the tower

by malfaisant



Category: Marvel 616
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-25 00:15:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1622111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malfaisant/pseuds/malfaisant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are many things Tony wants to talk to Steve Rogers about regarding the end of the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the tower

**Author's Note:**

> set before the events of Avengers #29, or really any time before Steve remembers the mindwipe. small spoilers for the issue as well as New Avengers #18.

I have this idea that's been running through my mind.

I'll never actually be able to say any of this to you. First of all, it's too fucking long, and what I say probably pushes it to villainous monologue territory. You'll have punched my lights out before I've gotten three words in, and no one would blame you for it. Writing a letter seems too cheesy, but hey, you did that to me the last time you died just so you could give me your then-recently undead sidekick, so maybe I shouldn't rule it out.

But see, Steve, even if you did hear me out, there's nothing to talk about. I've looked at the problem and traced its ultimate trajectory, from this moment to the very end of our geometric progression towards death, natural or otherwise, and what I've discovered is the following: I can't ask you to forgive me, because I will need to do unforgivable things.

Even so, when you remember (because you will remember), this is what I wish I'll be able to tell you.

This is an explanation, not an excuse. I will destroy other earths to save our own, to save all of reality. To save you. All of existence is not worth the cost of your soul...but it is worth mine, a hundred times over. My real problem is, it won't be enough. Surprise surprise, my soul isn’t worth for shit.

Our own universe is finite, and causally bound. If the second law of thermodynamics points the arrow of time, then the anthropic principle of entropy determines that time and work is maximised. In other words, we don't have a lot of time and I only have this life to try and fix it. But infinite universes mean infinite worlds. Eventually we will run out of raw materials to make our anti-matter bombs. I can weaponise every sun, every star, galaxies and galaxies of them, until we burn them all out and the skies go black, but even that won't be enough. Finite resources, see? A solution that isn't sustainable is no solution at all, it's a stopgap measure.

I am not a good enough weapons maker. Turns out I'm not as good at destroying as you believe me to be.

Right, this all seems very dreary. Usually I leave these mood-killer conversations to Reed. But there is a solution--you just won’t like it any more than the last one. The results of the equation changes drastically if we replace just one single variable. The solution's staring us right in the face, but no one wants to meet its eyes.

I need you, but I can't ask for your help. I was the first to preach to you about how we need to be open to the possibility there are are no solutions except for the one, but I'm the one most terrified of this reality. If I have you by my side, I'll have hope. Hope that another solution will eventually turn up. Hope is insidious and dangerous and the most cruel invention of man. Hope is an undefined variable. I can't afford it.

I've lied about so many things. I've lied to you more times than I can count, but not this: I want what you want. I want to find a solution that doesn't involve killing worlds, because otherwise, the last and only earth we will have to destroy is our own.

That is the only solution we have. It is the  _best_  solution we have, one with the least loss of life, and one we know for sure will be effective. We won't destroy worlds full of innocent people, let alone two whole universes. Evacuate 7 billion people, 7 billion refugees--we can even do it. The stars have always been our inevitable destiny as a species. Ex Nihilo and the Gardeners have terraformed countless worlds, can make countless others habitable for life. We only have to fine-tune our existing spacefaring technology. We have the Shi'ar and Kree and even the Skrull empires to help us. We have Avengers and mutants and magic and science. Humanity can survive. We lose one world to save all of existence. It's not even a fair question.

I call this pragmatism, you'd probably call it ruthlessness. Neither of us would be wrong. But we survive. We cut our losses and run.

There will be people who'll refuse to leave. There will be people who'll resist us--me--when I declare that I'll destroy the earth. You'll probably be one of them. T'Challa will die before he lets the walls of the golden city crumble. Same with Namor. Countless friends who will fight to the end to protect our home. But I have the power of stars behind me. How long do you think earth will stand if the galactic empires knew the fate of their universe was endangered by the existence of our small, insignificant planet? What chance do you think the earth stands against them? What chance do you think it stands against me? Me, who's been so very good at engineering the machinery of death. I can't destroy infinite worlds, but I can certainly destroy one.

Hank McCoy knows this. Bruce too. Reed certainly knows all this, and most likely has his own machines already in place. In countless realities, I've probably done it already--the Black Swan calls it the coward's way out of the game, to break free of the great wheel with grim finality. Well, if the shoe fits.

God, I have so many questions I want to ask you. (I hate not having you by my side.)

Because now the equation becomes a matter of when--when do I destroy the earth? Before the first time we have to kill an earth full of people? After the fifth time? After we exhaust our third star? Our fiftieth?

Would you stop me from destroying other worlds? Would you stop me from destroying our own? What would Captain America do?

Worst, when it came down to it, would I even be able to pull the trigger?

I don't know which answer I'm more terrified of. What about you?

I have this idea that's been running through my mind.

It's overwhelming, all-consuming, and I can't shut it off.

It's consumed me.


End file.
